


This Is What Reality Feels Like

by dismalatbest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boatload of cussing, Chaotic Good, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester - Freeform, Dean and OC - Freeform, Dean's a father, Mentions of Rape, Multi, OC's are my biggest indulgences, Protective Dean, Protective Sam, Sam is done, Scatterbrained Dean, past relationship, timeline is a mess, unexpectedly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24350170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismalatbest/pseuds/dismalatbest
Summary: “Hate to break it to ya kid,” Dean set out to lazily fold the beginning of his dried laundry, “but I’m too old for you.”“I wasn’t flirting’ with ya, old man. Just thought I’d be an outstanding citizen and rep my town.”A demon who just didn't know when to quit, a devious brat, a snarky ex, and a reluctant brother is all Dean Winchester has to keep him grounded. Fatherhood and him just don't mix, but when he's staring at a kid with the same smirk as his, Dean is all but three seconds away from officially losing his mind. He's also painfully aware of the misfortune that follows him around and the daughter he's going to lose if he doesn't put that damn demon to rest."Fucking Christ."
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	This Is What Reality Feels Like

As the girl watched him with intense curiosity, cognac colored eyes locked with his bright greens, Dean felt the corners of his mouth twitch, a sly grin beginning to take place on his handsome features. A lit cigarette hung precariously from the girl’s busted lip, her bloody fingers twiddling with her lighter, her painted nails chipped and faded of the neon blue. His eyes traveled to her mess of hair, deep raven curls all tangled. Dean had to look away when she started to strip free from her dirty cargo denim jeans, her slim figure strewing them into the washing machine as she rummaged her backpack for a sack of quarters. She didn’t seem to mind the fact that she was half naked in front of a stranger, not even taking in the fact that she was standing at a rundown laundromat at 1 in the morning, bloody and bruised, smoking a cigarette with her hair falling down her face like a curtain.

The white tank top she had on was free of blood, the crimson hue only marking her hands, face, and skinned knees. A white bandana was wrapped around her left wrist, almost like a makeshift brace. He guessed that she had to be around 16 and it baffled him how silently brazen she is. The beeping of the machine brought him out of his thoughts. His clothes were ready to be dried. Unloading the washer, the scent of smoke wafting into his nostrils, he heard rustling from where the girl sat. As the machine swallowed up his quarters, he heard the opening of a door, most likely the bathroom, and when he turned around, the odd girl was gone.

Sighing, Dean leaned up against the rigid counter of the facility and shut his eyes tight, he was dog tired of the events that had occurred that day. Children were dying in this town, from the strangest of things. As his mind trailed back to the girl, wondering if she may have been a potential victim, he heard the buzzing of his phone. Slipping it out of his jeans jacket, he looked at the caller ID and found his brother’s name written on it. Rolling his eyes, he flipped it open and spoke into the phone.

“Yeah?” His voice echoed throughout the emptiness, the only sound being the creaking that came from the bathroom.

“Haven’t found a damn thing Dean.” Cursing, the hunter breathed out in vexation, eyes trained on the light that seeped out from under the heavy wood door that separated the bathroom from the laundromat.

“There’s gotta be something Sam! We’ve been in this town before when we duked it out with a couple of bitchy witches. Can’t there be a connection from when we got stuck here?” Running a hand through his dirty blond hair, Dean heard Sam mumble words into the receiver, voice scorned and exhausted.

“It’s different Dean, we aren’t battling a couple of low class witches this time. Nothing’s happened since around this place up until now.”

Carpinteria, California.

A small coastal town outside of Santa Barbara with a population of less than 15,000. Not much happened around here, just the vast expanse of the ocean and tourism.

Biting his lip, Dean began to get desperate. They’d been stuck on this case for more than a week and, so far, no progress has been made. Yesterday, a body was found dead on the beach, the kid’s body so unrecognizable that the horrified screams of the boy’s mother still rang through Dean’s head. The townspeople suggest that it’s a serial killer, but the traces of sulfur state otherwise. The total body count is 4 and Dean would be damned if it made it to 5.

Putting his phone in his back pocket, Dean watched as the bathroom door opened, the lithe looking girl stepping out, her blue socks stepping onto the cold tile floor. She had cleaned herself off, gotten rid of all the blood and brushed her hair until it fell into messy, yet delicate curls. Settling on top of the marble counter, the strange girl waited for her jeans to wash, her eyes trained directly on Dean. Dean didn’t know what to think, a young girl was sitting not so far from him, without pants, and not bothered by his presence.

 _Well_ , Dean mused to himself, _there’s a first to everything._

“What’s up?”

Her voice shot out, breaking the painful silence Dean had been in, the thumping of the washing machine and dryer too low for him. Her voice was kinda raspy and loose waves of her black hair gently fell down her face, amber eyes melting into his. The shitty lighting made it hard for Dean to fully make out the teenager features, but the older man found himself finding her very familiar.

“Hey?”

Dean felt uneasy around the kid, her friendly smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and she quickly picked up on his apprehension. Smirking, the girl leaned her head back and attempted a different approach.

“You new here? I haven’t seen you around and it’s pretty damn hard to miss people.”

“Just passing through, probably hit the road in a couple days.”

Humming softly, she began to fidget in her seat as she kicked her legs back and forth.

“That’s too bad, Carpi ain’t bad. Sure the people can be annoying and the constant ocean breeze can get to ya, but it ain’t bad.”

“I can show you around too.”

The kid wiggled her dark eyebrows at him and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics. She reminded him faintly of someone, though he couldn’t remember who.

“Hate to break it to ya kid,” Dean set out to lazily fold the beginning of his dried laundry, “but I’m too old for you.”

“I wasn’t flirting’ with ya, old man. Just thought I’d be an outstanding citizen and rep my town.”

“Old man? I’m only 33!”

Her tiny nose scrunched up in mock distaste, lips curling upwards as a genuine smile displayed itself on her pretty face.

“33? Fuck, you’re older than I thought.”

With a dramatic sigh, the kid jumped off her seating place and moved her jeans into the dryer. She accidentally bumped her right wrist against the machine and hissed in pain.

“What’s wrong with your wrist anyways kid?”

It took a minute for her to respond, her back turned to him as she fumbled with the settings on the dryer and Dean gave up on folding and just threw everything into a sack. Closing the door to the dryer with her hip, she spun herself around and plopped back onto the polished counter. Eyes sparkling, she once again played with her Zippo by lighting it and extinguishing it, over and over again, the gunmetal glinting under the lighting.

“Got into a fight with this girl from school. Mid fight, we lost balance and I goddamn landed on my wrist. Pretty sure it’s sprained, but it’s whatever.”

 _She sure is scrappy_.

“Why’d you fight? She stole your boyfriend or something? She called you ugly?”

Rolling her eyes, the teen sent Dean a look of great annoyance, the once confident smirk wiped clean off.

“I’m not stupid enough to fight for a boy-” she snarkily replied, “and I could care less if she thinks I’m ugly. No, she was running her mouth to everyone about me and I don’t allow any lip from anybody.”

Nodding his head in understanding, Dean found himself amused by the abrasive girl.

“Bad mouthing? You may not be stupid enough to fight over a dude, but you are stupid enough to be roaming around town at 1 AM.”

“Charming.” she deadpanned, a scowl taking place on her face. “Didn’t take you to be a moral compass.”

“Only when I have to be kiddo, only when I have to be.”

Tossing her Zippo to the side, the girl quizzically observed Dean, a gleam of curiosity embedded in her warm eyes. Gripping the edge of the counter, she leaned forward and the scowl on her face gradually lessened, becoming a crooked grin instead.

“Say I didn’t catch your name old man.”

“Old man my ass kid, you ain’t gonna be laughing once you hit 33.”

Ignoring him, the kid bounced off the counter top when the dryer beeped. Reaching in for her pants, she decided that badgering Dean would be her next move.

“The names' Jamie,” she informed him as she tugged her jeans on, “I’m 15 and I play the guitar-” the girl jumped up to pull the denim over her hips, “and I like to play soccer.”

Buttoning her pants, she sent Dean a smug grin, almost boyishly. Grabbing his sack of clothes, he realized he had been waiting for the kid to finish up with herself. Dean knew it wasn’t exactly ideal to be walking in the dark at 1 AM when there’s a supernatural being walking among the town. He had waited for the teen and cocked his head to the front, her gaze following his and landing on the Impala.

“It’s way too dark for a little damsel to be walking around, so hitch a ride with me and maybe I’ll play 20 questions with you.”

“Who said anything about a damsel?”

“Girlie, you don’t even reach my neck. Whatever kids find intimidating about you clearly ain’t your height.”

“Jackass.”

Softly chuckling, Dean headed outside with the kid, Jamie, in tow. Her feet padded quietly against the hard concrete, she was completely shoeless.

“Kid, where the hell are your shoes?”

Stopping besides the parking meter, she feigned a look of innocence but Dean knew she was far from it.

“They’re in my backpack.”

“Why?”

Jamie merely shrugged her thin shoulders and moved onto the passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it. Rolling his eyes, he climbed inside and opened the door for the spindly girl, narrowly missing a bag to the head as she threw her backpack in the backseat.

“Do you mind not hitting me with your shit kid?”

“Oh I don’t mind at all old man!”

* * *

In a short span of 7 minutes, Dean learned much about Jamie. And she coaxed his name outta him.

She talked infinitely, from mundane things to levels of obscure intelligence Dean didn’t even think she could even possess. The kid was fucking smart, but she lacked a hell of amount of common sense. She willingly liked to endanger herself for the fuck of it and it worried Dean.

“I miss San Diego.”

Jamie’s gaze seemed distant as she peered out of her window, fingers drumming against her arm rest. Blowing a raspberry, her eyes flickered over to Dean’s cassette tapes and she began to rummage through them.

“Didn’t know you were a city girl?”

“Yeah well,” she inspected a random Metallica cassette, “Ma got with this dude and decided to move on back to Carpi. I mostly miss my aunt and the bustling nightlife.”

Nodding his head, Dean pulled up to her driveway and noticed that the lights in the house were on, almost as if someone was waiting around for a specific somebody. 

“Living room lights are on.”

Jamie cursed under her breath and unbuckled her seatbelt, muttering all about her shitty luck. She then turned to Dean and gave him a wry grin, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Ma’s awake so I think you should get on outta here before I open the front door. My ma knows I’m not big on teenage promiscuity, but she wouldn’t put it past me.”

Chuckling, she grabbed her backpack from the back and climbed out the door.

“Lord knows I wouldn’t.”

Dean snorted at the girl, his fondness of her growing more and more after every sarcastic comment she made.

“Take care of yourself kid, heard there’s been a few murders going around. Wouldn’t want to find your face plastered on my morning newspaper, now would we?”

Sticking her tongue out at him, she slammed the car door shut and waved goodbye, her muffled “thank you” was enough to keep Dean happy. He waited until she stuck her key into the door and he was off, not waiting for the aftermath of her mother yanking her inside and scolding her for worrying her half to death.

Must keep that poor woman running in circles.

* * *

Dean had been in this coastal town before, but he could hardly remember doing anything besides spending his free time at the beach and lugging Sammy with him to pick up some chicks from school. There was that girl he was running all over the place with though.

Dean remembered Esme, with her tiny frame and vibrant personality, she constantly kept him out of the loop.

He didn’t know what to do with her, but she was funny and beautiful. Esme became his only friend during the duration of his stay and Sam quickly warmed up to her. Her antics kept them on their toes and Dean, as he kept his eyes on the road and his mind in the past, recalled the many times she rejected him. Esme lived on the rather wild side and didn’t like to be tamed, preferring to do what she wanted when she wanted. Dean dug it. He honestly did and he spent nearly a month chasing her crazy ass around town.

Jamie reminded him of Esme.

Esme. Esme… Holy fuck!

Suddenly braking hard, his tires squealed from the force and his whole body shot forward but Dean didn’t care.

_If Esme still lives here, she’s got to fucking know something about the shit that’s happening here._

The memories came flooding back and Dean thought of the last week they spent here.

Esme knew about the witches, she knew about them.

The once incredibly dumb 18 year old Dean Winchester accidentally exposed Esme to the supernatural world he grew up in. She took it like a champ, helping Sam and him get rid of the stupid hags that plagued the town. After that big showdown, that excluded John who unsurprisingly dumped them there for their own safety, ironic, as he skipped three towns over as he closed in on a demon trail, Esme finally allowed Dean to show her the amount of driven passion he was willing to give.

Now _that_ he remembered.

Shortly after, John Winchester came back and collected his boys, leaving behind a distraught Esme and an irate Dean who truly did not want to leave.

Blindly reaching out for his phone, Dean sped down the road as he urgently called Sam.

“Still got nothing Dean so why don’t-”

“I need you to look up someone” Dean cut his brother off, “who might have somewhat of a goddamn clue as to what’s going on.”

“Who?”

Dean could practically hear the gears turning in his nerdy brother’s brain.

“Remember that girl we hung out with?”

“...holy shit.”

“Esmeralda Delgado. Look her up.”

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly wrote a random prompt on my phone due to coronacation and it spun into this clusterfuck. A little self indulgent piece so I can stop thinking so much about this character and her potential. The timeline is going to be a massive shitshow so please don't ask me when this actually takes place. I'm making shit up as I go. Hope I catered to your needs and please critic the shit out of me.


End file.
